To Love a Nightmare
by Lyn Harkeran
Summary: A bunch of sequel oneshots to: A Very Unusual Way- Kristina Moran and Roman Sionis have many trials ahead, most of which leave them physically or mentally scarred. So why do they continue to stay together? And how does the Mob Boss Black Mask deal with loving someone? OC/Black Mask romance, angst, crime, and fluff (Batman TAS universe mixed with Arkham Origins)
1. Harder They Fall

**Harder they Fall**

* * *

Kristina was free-falling.

Hard and fast, like a bird with broken wings. Spinning colors danced in her vision, and the offending sound of prison alarms filled her ears as she drew closer and closer to the ground. Rapid gusts of wind rushed against her form as she fought with gravity and lost. It continued to pull and scrape her clothes across her body harshly, making her cry out painfully despite this being her choice. The feel of the fall was similar to a good old fashioned beating, though there would be far more bruises when this _hit _was done. That and in all probability . . . a _broken_ neck.

The woman breathed frantically as the fear of the moment consumed her, waving her arms and legs in a large swipes to try to gain purchase on one of the many ledges she was flying past. But with each attempt she failed, and thus kept falling. She was moving too fast to be able to grab onto something for safety, and the ground wasn't very far away anymore. In another moment she would land and it would all be over.

Gritting her teeth as her body finally stopped fighting the air currents; Kristina Moran let several anxious tears escape her frightened eyes as she silently fell to her _death_.

* * *

_**Several Days Prior. . .**_

It was 8:00 and her trap was set.

Kristina Moran- _Nightmare_\- smiled to herself as she kicked back in her armchair and waited. It was only a matter of time before her invitation was answered, and she had vowed to enjoy every second of tonight. The woman was in desperate need for some fun after being cooped for nearly a month, and that's what she was going to get.

Good, adrenaline pumping,_ fun._

Ever since the incident where Harley had nearly blown her head off her shoulders, Roman Sionis had kept his promise. Kristina hadn't been touched by anyone or anything, and because of this, Nightmare's life was getting incredibly dull.

She was refused when she had asked to help with the bank jobs. Hell, she wasn't even allowed to pick up shipments anymore! And that was pure grunt work! The Boss had gone from devil-may care to overprotective in a heartbeat, and it was nothing short of infuriating.

But now, since the Mask had gotten himself locked away at Black Gate for some raunchy charges, Kristina was back in the game! Well . . . sort of. She would ultimately respect her man's wishes of staying safe, _once_ he was busted free. But until then, the world was free game!

Nightmare lay back in her chair like a giant jungle cat, stretching her muscles and yawning as the minutes ticked by and became an hour. But she wouldn't despair. Not when she knew that her trap was perfectly set.

By the time 10 o'clock was rolling around Kristina was getting a bit peeved, and was about to call it a night when her caller finally arrived. Crashing through the window, with a hammer twice her size grasped in her red and black gloved hands, Harley Quinn made a capital entrance. Nothing short of a stunning performance, seeing as it defied all logic that she had been able to swing into the seventh story window with the hammer in the first place. But it was a well-known fact that Harlequin made it an everyday practice to achieve the impossible.

"You know, you could have used the front door, Harley," Kristina said with an amused shake of her head, as she rose from her chair and approached the now surprised clown.

"Nightmare?" Harley looked confused as she took in her old friend and then the room she had crashed landed into. "What're you doin' here?"

Kristina smiled, "Just whiling away the hours. I'm glad you got my invitation."

Harley was silent for a moment before she started to guffaw loudly, snorting as large peals of laughter echoed throughout the nearly empty room.

"There isn't a vault in here, is there?" She finally asked when she had calmed down her laughter.

Kristina shook her head. "Nope, just me. Hope you don't mind."

Harley shrugged happily as she lowered her hammer, and lazily leaned against it. "Nah, sweetie, I don't mind at all! I'm just surprised ta see ya! How ya been?"

"I've been better actually," Nightmare answered back easily, sliding her eyes over the hammer and yet again wondering how on earth the small clown could carry it around so effortlessly. "I need your help."

Harley looked slightly uncomfortable, "Oh yeah? What with?"

Kristina reached out her hand and placed it on Harley's shoulder soothingly. "Calm down, Harley. I've forgiven you for last month. I know that sometimes you're forced to do things you don't want to do, by the people ya love the most."

The names_ Joker_ and _Black Mask_ instantly popped into the two women's minds, but neither stopped to bring notice to it, for Kristina immediately continued.

"I've got no hard feelings, Harls. . . I just wanted to offer you a good old fashioned con-job."

Where there had been uncertainty in the Clown Princesses' eyes, now only pure excitement shone. Harley Quinn's moods really were changeable. . . It was quite similar to how a child would react. One minute angry or upset about the injustices of their world, and the next, happily eating some candy and singing themselves a song.

Though in Harley's case, it was both innocent and horribly strange.

"What job, sweetie?" Harley finally asked curiously.

"My man's in Black Gate," Kristina answered truthfully. "I'm gonna bust him out, and I would appreciate having someone there to watch my back."

Harley openly giggled and clapped her hands together; seeming to forget the large hammer she was supposed to be holding. The gigantic weapon fell to the ground with a loud bang, making both Kristina and Harley jump. Then they both laughed together.

"Count me in, Nightmare!" The pretty clown crowed ecstatically, "Whatever ya need, I gotcha! We'll break ole Sionis outta the clinker, not sweat!"

"Thanks Harley, I'll owe ya one!"

The Clown Princess grinned. "Nah, we'll just call us square! So tell me, what kinda prison break did ya have in mind?"

Kristina Moran returned her friend's toothy grin in kind. "It's funny you should ask Harley. It's funny you should ask. . ."

* * *

_**Current time . . .**_

Roman Sionis was numb as he pulled himself away from the window of his prison cell, and felt the world seem to momentarily crash upon his weary shoulders.

Kristina was _dead. . ._

Only seconds prior he had gazed out at the outer wall of Black Gate Prison and witnessed her familiar form free-falling to the cement courtyard several stories below. He had called out to her, panic driving him to the brink of insanity as he watched helplessly. But it had been in vain.

Roman had turned away before her body hit the pavement, but he had known the moment it did. The sound was horrific and at the echoing _crack_, the Mob Boss had shut his eyes tight.

It was too much. . . Too much memory, sight, and sound. It wasn't possible. . . It just couldn't be.

His woman couldn't be gone . . . not _now_. Not here at Black Gate. . . Not like _this._

Slowly, Black Mask felt stone cold anger take precedence over his heartbreak, and it was like a switch had flipped in his brain. No more mourning or sorrow, only red hot pain and hate. He was seething, and somebody was gonna pay. Whoever had pushed Kristina over the edge of the roof, or stupidly stood by and let her jump had another thing coming. They would wish that it had been _them_ who had painted the cement red, when he was done with them. That was a bonafide promise.

And at the prompting of an undeniable impulse, the man launched his fist at his cell wall, and unleashed some of his emotion into the crack he had just created. But it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough, at this point . . . Other than someone's head on a platter.

Black Mask lifted his fist to hit the wall again, and would have continued to pummel the tiled wall if it hadn't been for someone clearing their throat obnoxiously from the doorway of his cell. Snapping his gaze up with fiery eyes, he was met with the goofy grin of the last person he had expected.

"Q-Quinzel?"

Harley Quinn- dressed in a prison guard's uniform, and lacking her usual makeup- made a silly face at him before she fully entered the small room. Where she had gotten the needed key-card or passwords was beyond Sionis, but there was too much on his mind in that moment, so he didn't think to ask.

"One in the same, Sionis," she said with a firm nod. "Did-ja miss me?"

Black Mask glared at the clown before he snarled, "Hell no, I didn't miss ya! Now get out!"

"I would, Sionis, in a heartbeat. Cause I really don't like ya! But Nightmare wants ya outta Black Gate, so I have ta play nice."

There was silence for a long minute before Roman's deadly voice stated three words.

"Nightmare. Is. DEAD."

At the steady growl of his voice, and the absolute murder in his eyes, anyone in their right mind would have run away crying, but not Harley. No, instead of doing the smart thing, she tipped her head back and laughed merrily.

Roman decided to kill her almost instantly, but first he would know what had made her laugh and make her regret it.

"What joke's so funny that it's worth your life, Quinzel?"

For a moment Harley couldn't speak, but she finally was able to huff, "Atta girl, Kristina! She played yous like a violin! Ab-sol-lutely perfect!"

Black Mask did a double take.

"What the hell are you talkin' about?"

Harley flashed the Mob Boss an extremely crazy grin as she answered. But Black Mask's expression put hers to shame as her words registered in his anger-ridden mind.

"Kristina is still _alive_, Sionis! She set up her fall so we'd have the proper distraction ta spring ya loose! Looks like she did a convincing job, huh? Gotcha all angry and bent fer revenge, when she hasn't even kicked the bucket! Haaaahh haaaahhhh!"

"H-How?" The Mask stuttered in shock. "I saw her fall! How could she make it look and sound so real? . . ."

"Geez, Sionis! Lighten' up! We're con-bimbos," Harley said with another laugh. "It's our job ta fool people! But I promise ya she's alive and waiting fer ya back at yer ha-ha-hacienda. Now I gotta getcha outta here before those party-poopers come back, or Nightmare'll kill me!"

After a moment more of shocked inaction, Black Mask slowly- but willingly- followed Harley back into the prison corridor, and down past several KO'd guards to an inconspicuous checkpoint. Here- as Harley swiped the stolen key card- she bid Sionis to grab the coat and hat off of one of the sleeping guards.

"Slip em on, or they'll recognize ya and this'll all be for jack squat!"

Roman quickly shrugged on the coat and expertly put the hat on his head, covering his hair and face, before he and Harley once more began to walk past the thick steel-based door. They went through the innards of the building and soon enough they came out of a secondary exit. As Harley punched in a set of memorized numbers into the final keypad and the last door opened for them, she offered another warning.

"Act normal, Sionis, and make sure ta keep that hat on. If we can get past these guys and outta the line of the snipers we'll be in teh clear!"

Black Mask nodded, and together the two cons exited the prison and walked across the sniper based outer wall, before finally reaching the employee parking lot. Harley walked over to an inconspicuous, crappy old mini-van and motioned for him to follow. Once they were both inside the van, Harley exhaled a large sigh of relief and started the engine.

"Free 'n clear, baby! Free 'n clear!"

And as they pulled away from Black Gate Prison, Roman Sionis couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. Nor could he control it when it became a full-fledged laugh. Impressed, happily surprised, and secretly relieved, Black Mask smiled.

Not only was he free, but Kristina was still alive!

Silently the Mob Boss marveled at the details that were still unknown to him, and internally bowed his head to the genius of the plan.

It was an indisputable fact: his little woman was truly something else.

* * *

_**A/N: **_Here's another commission for my dear friend !

Originally I had planned for this to be a direct (retribution) sequel to _**_A Very Unusual Way _**_but the story had other plans. The stinker wrote itself and damned all of my fine plans. lol XD

But on a positive note, now both Black Mask and Nightmare have gotten the better of each other. So it's all evens now! lol ^^

_Disclaimer: I do not own DC Universe, Black Mask, Harley Quinn, Blackgate, or Nightmare. _

**_~Lyn Harkeran_**


	2. January 22nd

**January 22****nd**

* * *

It was the 22nd of January, and Gotham was on fire. Throughout the large metropolitan city flames lashed out from both elite and lesser buildings and dwellings. Everywhere one looked, there was flickering bursts of orange and red, and as time went on it only got worse.

The reason for the fires was simple, but it seemed that the solution wouldn't be so clear-cut.

The ever-climbing fires were the direct result of multiple bombings that had been set off in several hot spots around Gotham. They had been timed to go off at the same time, and the damage had been nothing short of monumental. There had been no warning. No time to react or counterattack. Nearly twenty different locations blowing sky-high all at once- bloodily rocketing people and buildings alike- ultimately adding to the process of destroying another piece of the already crumbling city.

The precision based arson had been the deadly declaration of a turf war amongst the Bosses of Gotham, bringing on an all-out brawl between thugs and Bosses alike. Currently it was a blanket threat, but originally these bombings had been intended for only _one _Mob Boss. Though rather than taking chances, the bombs had been placed in every hot spot the man inhabited. A man that had been on the figurative chopping block for a long time. . .

None other than Black Mask himself.

* * *

Kristina Moran- the acclaimed _Nightmare-_ raised her wine glass to her chapped and bloody lips, slowly taking a long pull from the ruby liquid as she cringed painfully. The young woman had been in many hateful scrapes in her lifetime, but tonight had put all her other close-shaves to shame. She had barely managed to get out alive, and there were new marks on her body where scars would definitely form- both internally and externally.

There had been talk of a turf war for years, but no one had ever thought that it'd actually happen. Let alone, on a full city scale. But it had happened- it _was _happening- and there had been losses . . . more casualties than anyone was willing to count.

Kristina took another sip from her wine, and as she did so, hot tears slid down the crystal surface, silently mixing with the alcohol – not that the woman noticed nor cared. She was hurting too badly to care about something as petty as her drink. In fact, she was too numb to be concerned about much of anything, save the clenching of her heart and the sharp pain in her chest and sides.

Nightmares' night had started out completely ordinary- and now as the woman looked back on the events in order, she knew that there was no way that she could have known what was coming. No way that she could have prevented the horrific ordeal or awful outcome.

She had run a couple of errands for her boss- _Roman Sionis_, otherwise known as _Black Mask_\- finished a large bundle of paperwork for several drug and gun shipments, and brought in five containers of Chinese takeout- if there was one thing Nightmare had learned in her years of running with the Mask, it was that it took a mountain of food to sate his appetite.

Kristina had been in the middle of penning a letter for her employer- while he dictated between bites of sesame chicken- when the first bombs went off. It had started with a deep rumbling like a volcano eruption and then turned into a deafening roar as blinding lights lit up the smoggy Gotham sky. Kristina's eyes had gone wide in confusion and fear right before Black Mask had jumped on top of her- covering her body with his own as a way of protection. Then, in all but a few seconds, Black Masks' headquarters had been blown to kingdom come.

Kristina sobbed silently, choking on her acid-like tears as the memory of her boss kissing her forehead as the floor crumpled beneath them looping again and again in her minds' eye. He had given her a soft smile- something rare for the likes of Black Mask- and his dark eyes had been comforting, almost as if he was saying goodbye to her . . . then everything had collapsed, intense pain had snapped through her entire body, and the world had gone black as pitch.

When Nightmare had opened her eyes once more, the building was nothing more than charred rubble and she had been in too much pain to move. After an unknown amount of time, the woman had finally been able to push off the blocks of stone from her body and crawl painfully out of the wreckage. There had been no sign of Roman anywhere, or any of the bosses' boys for that matter. All that met her swollen, tender light blue eyes was destroyed bricks and stone, and unforgiving blood red flames. Kristina had screamed into the night, holding her side as her broken ribs forced her to her knees, as she came to the realization that she was the only one left. Her boss . . . her man- _her_ Roman- was gone. . . She was all alone.

The woman currently placed her wine glass on the table next to her, and took a shaky breath. She had always known the risks of working for a Mob Boss- Roman had made the possible outcomes quite clear to her- and yet she had never been prepared for something like _this. _Sure, she had looked death in the eye with every sour drug deal; every fight possibly being her last . . . and she had accepted that. . . But never had Kristina thought that Roman Sionis would precede her to the grave. She'd never dreamed that he'd leave her first.

But he had. And Kristina was numb and broken.

Sluggishly, the woman settled back in her armchair, cuddling into herself as her ribs protested against her movement. She could have made the walk into her bedroom, or even phoned an ambulance- heavens knew that she probably needed one- but Nightmare merely sat in stony silence. And as the minutes ticked by and became hours Kristina's eyes began to droop and a fitful sleep overtook her. For a time she floated in nothingness, but when she began to dream a noise brought her back to consciousness, making her alert despite her injuries.

Kristina blinked several times, becoming completely focused when the noise repeated itself. The woman quietly reached out for the glock that had been resting in her lap and stiffly stood from her chair, clicking off the safety with a well-trained thumb. With muffled footsteps- thanks to the heavily carpeted floor of her apartment- Kristina moved towards the intruder, following his unabashed sound making with apprehension.

In truth, Nightmare had expected this. She was the Mask's second in command after all, and that would mean that there would be a price on her head due to Sionis' untimely demise. So, the woman faced the reality of the moment with grim determination. Whoever had come to silence her would get a bullet first. She wouldn't keel over without a fight, and she would make sure that Roman's sacrifice wasn't for nothing. She would live and find those responsible for this war; or die trying.

Kristina followed the noises throughout her apartment and finally came to a destination: her bedroom. The woman couldn't help but smile bitterly to herself. The bastard thought that she was sleeping peacefully in her bed, did he? Well, he was about to find out how stupid making assumptions could be. Nightmare entered the room, and immediately cocked her gun, pointing it at the intruder with deadly precision and not an ounce of mercy.

"Turn around, scum," she said- her voice raspy and low from the fire smoke and wounds she had endured. "Do it slowly; or I'll end you where you stand."

The room was dark- but from her place at the door, Kristina could see the figure move to obey her command. With a flash of adrenaline, the woman reached out her hand and expertly flicked on the bedroom light.

Instantly, her jaw dropped and her eyes glazed, for the sight that met her was nothing that she had come close to imagining.

Within her bedroom, the Batman stood in all his glory- though his suit was burnt in places and charred in others- his intent eyes studied her cautiously, eyeing the gun. But it was the figure that was currently lying on her bed that made Kristina gasp aloud. Roman Sionis- the one and only Black Mask- was sprawled atop of her large purple comforter, covered in more cuts and bruises than the woman had ever seen, and completely unconscious.

"R-Roman . . ." Instantly, the glock slipped from Kristina's hand as she tried to rush to her man, but due to her ribs and beaten body she buckled under the pressure and began to fall to the floor. But just before she hit the ground, two strong hands reached out to grab her, stopping her before she made contact with the floor. The hands at her waist made Kristina cry out in pain, and the grip obligingly loosened, before helping her stand up again.

The woman looked up to the masked face of the Bat- the one who had caught her- and gave him a single nod that she was alright. The Dark Knight returned it, but kept his hold on her as he helped her over to the bed where Roman Sionis lay immobile.

It was strange being so close to Batman- seeing as Kristina hadn't dealt with him since she had run with Joker and his crew- at which time the Bat had clobbered her more than once. And the woman found that he was just as intimidating and powerful as he had ever been- and yet tonight as he guided her to her bed, Kristina found that he was surprisingly gentle_. . . _almost bordering on . . . _comforting. _ And Nightmare, not being one to look a gift horse in the mouth, accepted the rarity of the situation without question.

When she was safely sitting on the bed beside the out cold mob boss, Batman completely let her go.

The room was silent for several long moments, before Kristina finally found her voice.

"How Batman? _Why_? . . . You rescued Roman and brought him here to me, instead of hauling him to Blackgate? . . . I don't understand."

Batman gazed at her steadily before he began to explain.

Kristina was once more shocked, for it was the most she had ever heard the caped crusader talk, and his voice was different than she remembered. . . Calmer, more resigned.

"The bombings tonight were specifically targeting the Crime Bosses of Gotham, Kristina: Rupert Thorn, Two-Face, Falcone, Dagget, Boxy, and Sionis," at the mention of her man's name, Kristina shuddered. "Joker wants the Crime scene to himself, so he put the bombs in motion to create absolute anarchy. That with the added ransoms he placed on their heads, the Bosses never stood a chance."

"Joker's the one who wants us dead," Kristina asked as her stomach drew into a tight knot, and Batman nodded once. "But why?"

"Does the Joker need a reason?"

Was that humor in the Dark Knight's tone? Kristina didn't linger on the thought, for it was too strange to comprehend.

"Point taken. . . But why did _you _help us, Batman?"

The Bat didn't answer the question, but instead moved towards the open window to gaze out to the blood-soaked winter evening with unreadable eyes. "You two are still targets, Kristina; but you've been announced dead to the media and drug cartels. That should keep Joker off your trail long enough for me to deal with the fires and other Bosses. Until things cool down you need to stay inside."

"But Roman needs a hospital," Kristina interjected, panic stricken. "I can't take care of all of his injuries."

"I know," Batman agreed deeply, his voice seeming to echo all over the room. "Do the best you can; I'll be back once I've taken care of Joker."

Kristina watched as the vigilante prepared to depart, and found that her chapped, blood-stained lips were turning up into an actual smile. Then as the Dark Knight shot his grapple out the window, Nightmare found herself whispering something she'd never have dreamed she'd say in a million years.

"Thank you, Batman."

The savoir of Gotham didn't answer, but it was obvious that he had heard her gratitude, for he paused to acknowledge it. Then- as Kristina Moran watched- Batman swung out into the fiery night, leaving her alone with her beloved Black Mask and a relieved laugh on her tired lips.

* * *

_**A/N:** _Yet another installment to Kristina and Roman Sionis' story. ^^ I don't have much to say except this is my first time ever writing the B-Man and I'm honestly pleased with it. I've written many of Gotham's Villains, but never its Hero.

Please drop me a line and let me know if Batman was in-character. I want to know how I can improve, and without feedback I'll never know. :D

Have a great day guys!

_**~Lyn Harkeran**_


	3. Sionis's Girl

**Sionis's Girl**

* * *

It was getting late as Kristina Moran- right hand woman of the Mob Boss Black Mask- embraced the chilly winter night. The woman shivered slightly as she pulled her silk wrap more securely around her bare shoulders, and let her light blue eyes take in the world that moved unbridled around her.

Though it was quite cold outside and the sun had already set on Gotham, the streets were alive with countless faces and stories. It was an unofficial fact that Gotham City never slept, but if one were in need of proof it would have been found here. Each alleyway and gutter, each car and fire hydrant, all the many faces of the passing masses: they all told the Metropolis's story. True, this tale was more often than not unpleasant or unsavory; but it didn't make it any less _real _or _alive. _And to Kristina (or _Nightmare_) this was more beautiful than any fairytale; especially when she had almost _lost _it.

It had been almost three months since the Gotham Turf War had begun (January the 22nd). . . Three months since Kristina had almost lost her boss and lover to the flames and bombings that had nearly swallowed Gotham whole. It seemed like a lifetime ago- and then again, like it had only been yesterday.

For two whole months Nightmare had laid low with a wounded Black Mask in her care, waiting for the heat to die down. This had taken longer than expected, due to the bounties that the Joker (said culprit behind the bombings) had placed on all the Mob Bosses heads and the overall damage dealt to the already dying city. But with the GCPD and the Batman working double time- the brunt of the hell on earth had passed.

Now with the worst of their wounds healed, the Joker back at Arkham under lock and key, and new reconstruction underway on all the ruined buildings- the Bosses were meeting to fix their bonds. Because, though the destruction had been Joker's doing, the Turf War had helped many old feuds and grudges resurface. And tonight, at the request of Old Falcone- the Bosses had gathered to reunite and publicly re-take control over their businesses and _families_.

And that was why Kristina Moran and Roman Sionis were currently dressed to the nines and pulling up outside of the Iceberg Lounge in a white limo.

Though the car had stopped nearly two minutes prior, the woman still stared out blankly at the people that walked by- making no move to exit the car.

To her side, Roman Sionis (otherwise known as Black Mask) watched her silently, his dark eyes taking her in intently before he reached out to take her hand that rested on the seat into his own larger one. The contact wasn't anything special, but it was enough to make Kristina's gaze fall on him.

"You ready to go, baby girl."

Kristina nodded once, a soft smile gaining purchase on her lips, "Yeah."

"Then what's botherin' you? You've been quiet since we left our place."

Kristina sighed before shaking her head. "It's nothing, Roman. . . I'm fine."

"No, doll-face. You ain't." Though the words were blunt, his voice was calm and non-threatening. "Something's eatin' ya, and we aren't getting' out of this car until you've spit it out."

For a long moment, Nightmare didn't say anything. But then when she realized her boss wouldn't leave it be, she answered him.

". . . The last time we went out like this was right before you got hurt, Roman. . . I'm just having to get used to the _peace _of it all. . ."

The unspoken worries and fears behind Kristina's words weren't lost on the Mask, and he looked at her firmly.

"Kristina, _Kristina_ . . . Baby girl, look at me." When she did, he met her gaze with one blazing with conviction. "Doll, I'm _not _going _anywhere. _The Clown freak got a lucky break that could never happen again. It'll take more than a couple of bombs to off me; ya know that right?"

Internally the woman wanted to argue. Roman had been as good as dead when the Batman had brought him unconscious to her door, and he _would _have died if it hadn't been for the Dark Knight's protection. . . But instead of saying as much, Nightmare changed the verbal focus of her fear.

"What about the other bosses?"

"What about 'em?"

Kristina stopped to find the right words. "Some of them might be baiting for blood tonight . . . a-are you up to that?"

The Mask smirked then, shaking his head in amusement. "I'm a hundred percent prepared, doll. Nothin' they throw at me tonight will make a lick of difference. We're almost back on schedule with our drug shipments, I've been able to round up our remaining boys and hire some new blood from Atlantic City, and we got the stash that the Bat didn't touch. We're _back in the game_ Kristina. Babe, those thugs in there are nothin' we haven't faced before."

All of this was true, and despite her misgivings Kristina offered her lover a smile. "Alright. . . What do you want _me_ to do, Roman?"

"Well, I want cha ta knock 'em dead with that gorgeous body," the woman couldn't help but laugh at the way his eyebrows wiggled suggestively, "And play the lovable snake charmer so they'll be putty in my hands, until we're up 'n running in full."

"Oh! So you want me to do, what I _usually _do at these summit meetings."

"Uh huh. Now you're catchin' the drift."

Nightmare shook her head once, bemused by it all before she squeezed Roman's hand that still held onto hers. "If that's what you want, boss then I'm ready. . . . If _you are_?"

"I was _born_ ready, baby girl." He winked at her, chuckling and getting out of the car on his own side, before turning to help her out.

When the renowned Mob Boss offered her a hand out of the limo, Kristina took it willingly. And together the couple entered the Iceberg Lounge with an air of confidence and power that would have made even the batman cry.

* * *

On a normal night, the Iceberg Lounge was a piece of heaven on earth- though an albeit _chilly _slice at that. But tonight in honor of the public meeting of the Crime Bosses of Gotham, the establishment had been transformed into something even greater. The already beautifully decorated Lounge was exquisite, with large crystal icicles that dotted the room, and sparkling lights that gave the illusion of snow falling from the ceiling. And with the added five star band, waiters, and cuisine- the Iceberg was the perfect spot to be. Though it was obvious that only a lucky handful had been given this great honor- Cobblepot had only invited the elite of Gotham and those lovely few reporters that the crime syndicate had in their back pocket. This group wasn't a big crowd in terms of the Lounge's housing capacity, but it was enough where one could get lost in the dancing couples and happy revelers if they weren't careful.

It had been nearly an hour since Sionis and Kristina had arrived, and so far the exchanges had gone rather smoothly. The initial greetings had been a bit uncomfortable- giving cheek kisses and slapping one's business rival on the back was never a pleasant thing- but after that the night had gone as swimmingly as could be expected. Not everyone had showed: Rupert Thorne for one and Dagget for another -seeing as neither were willingly to publicly announce their unsavory ties to Gotham's Underground, this was no surprise to anyone- but all the others had shown up in their best suits and tux's to give a great big _fake_ smile to the press. There was Black Mask and Kristina Moran, Oswald Cobblepot (otherwise known as the Penguin) and his right hand lady Tracey Buxton, Boxy (the bottom of the totem pole, but still considered a boss) who had brought two unknown and questionable women to the party, Old Falcone and his fussy son Alberto who would one day inherit one of the largest slices of the pie, and Two-Face- the newest Boss other than Boxy who had him beat by two years. All in all, it was quite the turn out; and the press had already gotten more pictures and footage than they would _ever _need.

The only two who had refused to take part in this social fiasco (giving interviews, statements, and lying while on camera or the odd portal recorder) were Black Mask and Two-Face. And for that, they had unknowingly gained some respect from each other. And as Roman and Kristina had been about to go out to the dance floor after the niceties were over, Two-Face had made his move.

"Sionis," he called out, making the Mask turn around to regard him. "You got a minute?"

"I was just about to dance with my woman. Can't it wait?"

Two-Face shook his head, making a stray lock of miss-colored hair fall onto the good side of his face. He wore no expression, but it was obvious that he wasn't willing to be patient.

"Whatever you wanna talk about: Kristina stays." Sionis said, but already his crime brother was shaking his head.

"Sorry, Sionis. But it's a _delicate _subject that should have limited access."

Kristina who had been silent up until this point, smiled despite herself. Two-Face obviously wanted to discuss a business proposition (most likely drugs or a bank job) and she knew that if Roman agreed to it, she'd be the one to carry out the deed in the end. And thus she should be able to hear the details from the horse's mouth. . . But deciding to play the sweet snake charmer that Roman had asked her to be, the woman pushed aside the part of her that wanted to slam-dance the duo personality, and patted her bosses' arm gently.

"I'm fine, Roman," she said aloud with a knowing smile. "Go talk, I'm not going anywhere."

The Mask looked down at her, seeming ready to protest, when he saw the twinkle in her blue eyes and nodded in understanding. Whatever he had interpreted from the look, he obviously had gotten her main gist.

"Be back soon, baby girl," he promised.

Kristina leaned up to kiss him, before he walked away with Two-Face, leaving her alone.

Nightmare stood at the edge of the dance floor for a long moment, watching the dancing couples sway to the gentle lull of the band, and felt a pleasant warmth creep up her spine. In truth, the woman was grateful to have a moment to herself. Though she loved Roman dearly, having a smile and careless air about her was beginning to take its toll . . . especially when there were so many loose-cannon's around. If she said the wrong thing it could mean more violence between the Mob Families, and that was the worst thing that could possibly happen right then. With Gotham just beginning to heal from the bombings, and the worst having just passed, it was unacceptable to have it start up again. So Nightmare had taken the utmost care to be the perfect woman (in other words keeping most of her opinions and thoughts to herself). So to be on her own was a sublime Godsend.

For another minute she stood gazing out to the dance floor, before she sighed softly and turned away. There would be time to dance when Roman came back. She would just have to wait a little longer than planned. . .

Or that was what she was _thinking _. . . until a soft clearing of the throat caught her attention. Kristina turned her head to see the person standing behind her, and felt her eyebrows lift.

"Hello there," the man said cordially, offering her a genuine smile. "Might I have this dance?"

Kristina had had some strange things happen to her in the past, but having Gotham's Playboy Billionaire ask her for a dance was surely in the top ten.

"Bruce Wanye?"

His smile tipped in humor at the surprised tone that came from her- a lopsided grin that made him seem strangely cuddly and sweet. "You've heard of me?"

Kristina nodded with a smile of her own. "Yeah. Besides the fact that you have _world renown_; my boyfriend talks about you from time to time."

He didn't seem perturbed by her hint of a _boyfriend _at all, which was kind of a curve ball- not that Kristina let it show.

"Oh? And who's your boyfriend?"

"Roman Sionis." Kristina knew that dropping her man's name would end this strange conversation, seeing as Roman Sionis and Bruce Wanye had been feuding for years. Though as the Mob Bosses' name slid from her lips, the woman felt somewhat wistful. Sure, she was happy with Roman and wouldn't ever leave him, but it was nice to have another man so obviously interested- even if it was only for a moment.

"Roman Sionis, huh?" Kristina nodded, waiting for him to turn on his heel and leave. But to her complete shock, he stayed sedentary. "Well, I suppose I'll just have to steal you away while he's busy."

"Sorry, hon," she immediately replied with an amused shake of her head. "I'm not the type of girl you steal. I'm content with what I've got."

Bruce leaned in conspiratorially and asked quietly, "Even for one dance?"

She laughed. "Even for one dance, Mr. Wanye."

"Oh come on," he said with a laugh of his own. "I promise to return to you unscathed. Just one waltz."

Kristina knew that she probably shouldn't, but it was _just a dance _after all. There was no harm in it. So she replied firmly with a no-nonsense face: "No funny business?"

Bruce held up a hand, his eyes shining merrily, "Scouts honor."

"Alright," the woman said. "Lead the way, Mr. Wanye."

"Bruce," he corrected, as he took her hand and led her to the dance floor where he brought her close with a hand at her waist.

"I thought you said _no funny business._" She chided mockingly as they began to step easily to the soft jazz that was wafting across the Lounge.

"Are first names considered _funny business_?"

"Last I checked," she teased, as he spun her out and brought her back in gently. "Though I can't complain as far as the dancing goes. You haven't stepped on my toes once."

Bruce laughed and shook his head, "I can see why Sionis likes you."

When Kristina lifted an inquisitive brow, he continued. "He's always been _high-strung_ and _impulsive_." The way he said these words made it obvious he was talking about Roman's lawless activities, but Kristina didn't pay it any mind. "No regular woman could keep up with him. He's lucky to have you."

"Thank you. . . _Bruce_." She offered after a moment, making him dip his head in gratitude at the use of his first name. "I'm lucky to have him as well. They don't make men like him anymore."

After this, the two were silent for several minutes, merely dancing. And though the waltz that Bruce led her in was quite simple, he did so with authority and precise certainty, and Kristina followed in elegant succession. In her delicate blue evening gown that hugged her curves in just the right way, she was the belle of the ball- and the two made quite the picture as they spun around in time to the soothing melody.

But as all things must, the song soon came to an end and they began to slow, until they had stopped moving completely.

Then as Bruce gazed down at her, an unreadable expression overtook his face, and he lifted Kristina's right hand up to chastely kiss her knuckles. "Thank you for the dance, Kristina."

"My pleasure, Bruce Wanye."

Then, he led her back to the edge of the dance floor of the Iceberg Lounge, saying, "Roman _doesn't_ know what he has."

Kristina gave a shrug before returning the smile, knowing what he was _really _saying. It was true that what she had with Roman Sionis wasn't normal or in most cases considered _healthy_, but it was what they both wanted, and Nightmare was contented with it.

"I know," she said finally. "But be that as it may, I'm _still _Sionis's girl."

Bruce's smile stayed in place, but Kristina could see that it didn't touch his eyes. . . They had turned almost _sad_ . . . and it was then that the woman felt a niggling at the back of her mind. . . She knew those eyes somehow- though she was sure that she'd never met Bruce Wanye before tonight. . .

She_ knew_ them.

_He knew your name without you telling it to him, _her mind substituted as the woman lifted her intent eyes to the man's. _He __knew__ your name . . . he's __familiar__. . . _

And then it hit her.

Like a ton of freshly lain bricks, the knowledge of _where _she knew _Bruce Wanye_ fell into place, and a soft gasp flew from her lips. And for the first time that night, she truly _looked _at him. Wonder laced her expression as she pondered how she hadn't seen it before. True the suit was a different and the voice had changed somewhat, but the power and nobleness was still there- hiding beneath the surface.

_Those eyes . . . his __**eyes. **_

Then, to her own surprise Kristina did something she couldn't quite comprehend. Leaning up into his personal space so that she was close to the billionaire's ear, she whispered, "Thank you . . . _Batman." _

It was exactly what she had said to him when he had brought Roman back on January the 22nd, and once again she spoke it was sincerity. Then, she placed a soft kiss to his cheek before pulling away completely.

In that moment, as Kristina once more looked at Bruce Wanye, a lot of things could have happened. He could have denied her assumption, he could have laughed it off, or he could have gotten offended or defensive. . . But the man did none of these things.

Instead, he inclined his head to the woman, and gave her a meaningful look. "Take care of yourself, Kristina."

There was a warning behind his words. He was telling her to be careful: with both her job as a Mob Bosses right hand, as well as _being_ with Roman Sionis. There was no threat as far as what she had just discovered, nor any push for a promise that she'd remain silent about his true identity. And though Nightmare was aware that they'd never be on the same side of the scale, she knew that she wouldn't betray his trust.

"You too," she returned tranquilly.

_I'll keep your secret_. She told him wordlessly.

_**I know. **_

Then, without another word, Bruce Wanye turned and walked away- instantly getting lost in the crowd of the Iceberg Lounge, just as the band began to play Nightmare's favorite song. And the woman felt a strange smile grow on her face.

Batman had saved her and Roman when the bombings had occurred . . . and now she would save him by keeping quiet.

_What a funny world we live in, _Kristina thought to herself. _What irony that the villain will be a keystone in saving the hero. . . _

* * *

Later on that night, as Black Mask and Nightmare drove back to their side of town, Kristina cuddled into his side. Though the two were intimate with each other, and had been for quite some time, he looked down at her curiously.

"You cold, baby-girl?"

"Nah," she said sleepily. "I'm just right."

Roman chuckled as he placed a kiss to her hair and wrapped his arms around her. "Well don't get too comfortable."

"Hmmm? Why?" She said, playing along as she looked up at him with mock curiosity.

Roman gave her a mischievous glance that he reserved for her eyes alone- and it made her heart flutter happily in her chest.

"Well, you know that after being around all those slime balls, we gotta get clean."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, sir."

Kristina lifted her face so that her lips were hovering right below his and grinned. "Do I sense the need for a hot bath?"

Roman chuckled as he caught her lips for a kiss, passionately nipping at her nose as he came up for air. "See, my girl knows me! Simple things, _Nightmare_! Simple things, make me happy."

"Make _us _happy," she corrected as she nuzzled him contentedly, and once more brought him down into kiss- knowing that she was in fact happy in her choice. "Forever and always, boss."

His smile turned soft as he held Kristina close to him and the limo pulled into their parking garage. "You got that right, baby-doll. I don't want any other woman but _yous_."

Together they got out of the limo and walked past the hired thugs who stood watch, moving towards the penthouse flat they shared. "And I don't want any other man, Roman," she said sincerely with an affectionate smile. "Cause you're perfect to me."

* * *

_**A/N:** _For some reason my mind has created a love triangle between Roman, Kristina, and Bruce. Though Kristina has already chosen. . .lols I don't even known anymore. Carry on, my dear!


End file.
